


Like Father, Like Son.

by meli_fan



Series: Tumblr Works [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: sorry? i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:57:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7404283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meli_fan/pseuds/meli_fan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Maester is looking at him, softening at Tyrion’s relief. “I’m sorry about the boy.”</p>
<p>“It’s a boy?” Tyrion asks. Mt first son. He had not set eyes on him, but he loved the little thing already. “I want to see him.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure my lord?” The maester asks, concerned.</p>
<p>*/*</p>
<p>Tyrion and Sansa's firstborn son is not born perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Father, Like Son.

**Author's Note:**

> A friend and I discussed the idea of Tyrion having a son with his same affliction. This was a result of that. Super vague future fic.

“Deformed.”

When he hears the words, he doesn’t- He can’t quite form words. As much as he tells himself that he has survived this far, that he has so much now, he had hoped.  _The Gods don’t spare us, no matter if we’re good_.

Not that Tyrion is good, in any way. He is not, but Sansa certainly is.

She doesn’t deserve this. It was bad enough she had been cursed with him as a husband.

_No_ , he tells himself.  _No more of that thinking_. The Maester is looking at him expectantly. “Sansa, is she-”

“The Lady Stark is healthy, but tired and sleeping.” The Maester is looking at him, softening at Tyrion’s relief. “I’m sorry about the boy.”

“It’s a boy?” Tyrion asks. Mt first son. He had not set eyes on him, but he loved the little thing already. “I want to see him.”

“Are you sure my lord?” The maester asks, concerned. “He may not survive, weak as he is, and it would be less painful if-”

“Nonsense.” The raspy voice of Arya Stark interrupts the man’sphrase. “Move, old man.” At once, he steps aside, and there is Arya, tall, dark and proud. Smiling at the bundle in her arms. “He is part wolf, he is a survivor.” She stands next to Tyrion, and kneels next to hm. “Your son, my lord of Lannister.”

When she offers it to him, Tyrion is struck speechless.  _He’s so small_ , he thinks. He takes it delicately, and Arya mutters something about holding his head, so he does. In his arms, Tyrion’s son seems almost perfect. His eyes are closed, his skin looking impossibly soft. On the top of his head, thin golden hair crowned him. Only his slightly prominent forehead gave away the fact that something is obviously wrong.  _But I love him still_ , he thinks.  _I love him already_. And yet…

A part of him wants to curse the gods, be angry, bitter, resentful. He had played the game and stupidly thought he had won. They will talk of him, avoid him, mock him.  _Not in front of me_ , Tyrion thinks,  _but behind my back and his they will_. The babe is beautiful, ugly and asleep. Tyrion is crying.

Arya Stark is mercifully silent. Her usual sharpness has diminished at her own pregnancy.  _She and Sansa don’t get along much, but they were both excited at being with child together_. Tyrion does not wish this to Arya Stark and her husband.

“Sansa-” Tyrion only manages to shoke out her name, but his voice breaks and he can’t do this in front of others.

“Will love him all the same.” Arya whisper softly, reassuring. “I mean, she loves you, and you’re a Lannister.”

Tyrion barks out a laugh through the tears, the baby is silent still, peaceful in his arms. “She didn’t deserve this.” Tyrion admits defeated. “He didn’t deserve this.” The boy is innocent, and Tyrion knows how he will suffer.

Arya’s own hands go to her belly, and Tyrion knows he’s not making it easy for her. Arya’s hands were as tainted with blood as his. He would apologize, but he doesn’t really want to go back on words that held so much truth. Besides, Arya would never care for an apology for too much honesty. “I’ll go get Lanna, she was praying for a little brother.”

Arya leaves, and Tyrion thinks sadly of his cruel fate. The Gods did not allow him to be there for the birth of his daughter, and took Tysha soon after finding them. And now that he has a new opportunity, they do this.

“My lord?” the maester is back, Tyrion had hardly noticed he had left. “The lady Sansa is awake. I’ll give you a moment.”

Tyrion braces himself, and enters the chamber with the boy in his arms. Sansa looks tired, but healthy. And hopeful. When their eyes finally focus on each other, her smile drops. “What-What is it?”

It takes all of his strenght to not break down as he approaches her, handing the babe with shaky arms. Sansa takes the bundle in her arms, looking beautiful, even glowing, when she craddles it agans her chest. And when she opens the sheet folding the babe, Tyrion finally sees the short stubby leg, he loses it.

_It’s not fair_ , he thinks, as his legs give away and he kneels next to Sansa’s bed, his head hidden in the mattress. Tears fall soon enough, warm, salty and free.  _I do not want him to suffer. I will not let him suffer like I did_. His sadness is more than that. Tyrion is angry at the Gods and fearful of his destiny.  _He does not deserve this_.

Sansa’s hand is caressing his head, and after a moment is serves to calm him. “I’m sorry,” he sobs. “I’m so sorry Sansa.”

“We have a son.” Sansa is so strong. Even with tears in her eyes, she is so strong. “Half wolf and half lion.” Tyrion feels her soft fingers raising his chin, making him look at her. “We have a son, and others will follow.”

_I will love him best_ , Tyrion swears to himself.  _I will love him best so he knows for sure that he is loved and that I am proud of him_. “Thank you, Sansa” Is all he can do, thank her for loving him, despite his name and circumstances. Thank her for giving him a son, a heir and so much happiness after years of war.

“Whenever one of us was born, my father would ring the bells of Winterfell all day”. She said sweetly, touching the babe with her finger. 

“I will tell the castellan as soon as I can stop looking at you two.” Tyrion says, cleaning the tears from his face. They both stay there, simply enjoying the rise and fall of the babe’s chest. Wrapped in fabric and craddled agans his mother, he almost looks normal. Sansa and Tyrion jump when the sound of the bells fills the silence.

“Arya.” Sansa chuckles, caressing the baby’s face. “C’mon love, wake up.”

“Open your eyes, my son.” Tyrion says, and the baby stirrs. “I must name you, and I need those pretty eyes.”

Slowly, his eyelids open and Tyrion finds a pair of blue eyes staring at him. This time with a smile, he thinks to himself: _I have a son_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written Tyrion's POV before, or Tyrion x Sansa for that matter. I don't know what happened, but thank you for reading <3


End file.
